character_roleplayfandomcom-20200213-history
User blog:NyricTheDeceiver/Gilded Deceptions (Tales of Beodon)
Nobleman and aspiring politician, Charles Gladian holds the title of high envoy within the Merchant's Consortium, but he craves to be more than a mere diplomat, evaluator of contracts, and bureaucrat. A fateful event has opened his eyes, peeling back the veil of luster and innocence and exposing the true side of the guild: a sinister side with its claws in crimes most sordid. Will his ambition propel him through the ranks of the scheming guild or send him to an early grave. Act 1: Queen's Gambit 'Chapter 1': Debt Does A Kingdom Make He opened his eyes again. He did not recoil from the thought, but instead nurtured and relished in the dangerous sense of life that it caused to swell within him. Being a High Envoy within the Consortium had its perks, that could never be mistaken; he wielded more power than most common men could ever dream of, but it was power with constraints, and he detested limits. He knew there would be danger ahead of him in his quest for more power: expulsion or, worse, risk being stripped of his title and forced into debt for the rest of his natural life. The latter was a fate he did not ever wish to encounter. But he had gotten this far, rising through the ranks with diligence and fake smiles and favors in high places. Now, the game had changed. He would usurp Quaestor Maccahi, sooner or later. He simply needed a plan. This stuck in his mind as he went over the documents that laid in a neat pile on his desk. A report form on today's asset evaluation and confrontation of the traitorous Turin Ayera. It could wait. A request from a continued thorn-in-his-side artificer for an adjustment of his payment plan. He would pretend to consider it. Charles glared at the final paper that lied upon his desk with a mix of curiosity, satisfaction, and anxiety. It was a summons bearing the official insignia of his superior, Quaestor Nicolas Machhai. Charles gripped the paper as one would grip a dangerous curiosity, holding it away from himself as though fire might leap from the parchment and scorch his arm. He looked the order of summons over and scanned it like an artificer would examine his latest work for faults, searching desperately for any sign of forgery or tampering. After several minutes of intense study, he found none. It was genuine. Rarely did the quaestor summon his subordinates, save to calmly castigate and demote them for continued failure; rewards were few, and what little rewards Quaestor Nicolas saw fit to lavish upon his lessers were often minor. Being ever the analyst, Charles' mind flooded with ideas. Perhaps it was the Gora account...No, that was resolved relatively nicely. If that is his issue, he would have called me in immediately. Hmm..maybe- a series of hard raps on the door interrupted his train of thoughts, drawing his eyes across the well-furnished room. "It is unlocked. You may enter," Charles said offhandedly, returning his eyes and his mind to the summons. It is most likely the construct arriving with my meal. Once it's gone, I can focus on discerning my oversights. Charles was correct in his assumption, to an extent. Accompanying his metal servant, was a fair young woman dressed in black. She introduced herself as a Dalia Aueria with a mischievous smile. She was a beautiful young woman. Light, porcelain skin covered her from head to toe. Upon her head rested a short sea of brown locks, the longest of which fell down to her soft chin. Piercing, golden eyes drunk in his very essence. Pillowy, rosy lips parted in a sinful grin. She radiated a temptress' alluring power. Charles' face remained impassive in response to her unexpected arrival, but, secretly, he was perplexed. She must be one of Quaestor Nicolas' personal servants. Her timing is too perfect. Charles rose from his desk. "Welcome to my study, Ms. Aueria," he shifted a smile onto his face. "Please, sit," he motioned towards the two exquisitely crafted chairs across from him. "Thank you kindly for the offer, but we must be going. Lord Macchai has requested your presence immediately," she replied curtly with a voice of honey that betrayed none of the authority within her statement. Quaestor Macchai would not be waiting for him. I see the Quaestor has fine taste in servants. Candid and expedient. Denying her has no purpose. "Why, of course. Allow me to gather my belongings and we shall be on our way." Dalia turned on her heel and walked towards the door before stopping, each elegant step precise and flawless. "Do not be long. I will be waiting for you outside your manor-" she found the humanoid construct that Charles called a servant the object of her curiosity, running her slender fingers along the filigreed metal as she spoke; in a flash of crimson light, the artifice creature was reduced to a pile of sprockets and rent metal "-and I do not like to be kept waiting, as does my lord." And with that, she exited and closed the door to Charles' study. Giggling and the signature creak of boots on wood filled the hallway and began to dissipate as Dalia disappeared down it. Point made- Charles gazed down at the remains of his mechanical servant with a detached annoyance- but I feel that was entirely unnecessary. Golems like that cost fortunes. Though I suppose it only adds plausibility to my theories. Remembering he had no time to stand there and muse, he traveled down the hall to his chambers and grabbed his guild ring, a portfolio of papers which he tucked underneath his arm, and a dagger. Along the way, he ordered a servant boy to have the mess within his study cleaned before he returned. Afterward, he joined his unruly and unwanted companion outside and they left for Quaestor Macchai's estate. 'Chapter 2': Audit of Character The golden mists increased in luminosity, growing from a dull brightness to match the rays of the sun. "I do." With that, the streams of golden aura disconnected and died down. A faint, pulsing pain throbbed in Charles' left hand. A new, seven-pointed crown sigil was etched into his skin, glowing briefly before disappearing. The contract had been finalized. Quaestor Nicolas chuckled. "It is done, but I must know that you are loyal. You will go with Dalia-" He pointed at Dalia, who stepped to Charles' side- "To 'resolve' a debt that I hold within the Oram District. The debtor's name is Aman Lorei, a cogworker, and he has continually failed to pay back his loans to the Consortium and has attacked Consortium agents. Dalia knows the location of his business and his home. Teach him a lesson -how you do it really makes no difference to me- and you will have earned my trust. Simple enough, is it not?" "A simple task," Charles nodded. Get rid of one of the Quaestor's problems and get on his good side. Easy enough. Dalia wrapped her arm around Charles. "And don't forget, I'll be with you the entire time. Ask me for help if you need any ideas on how to 'punish' this guy," she winked. "I shall consider it," Charles said as he disentangled his body from her embrace. "Thank you for the offer though." Quaestor Nicolas shifted in his seat. "Be gone, now. I have other business to attend to." Dalia and Charles left Quaestor Nicolas' inner sanctum and made their way to the Oram District. They had been walking for hours, as Dalia insisted against a skylift. So they walked. Dalia led the way, of course. Her brisk steps betrayed a focus that her permanent grin never displayed. Charles had never seen this part of Northpass before. He was getting used to the new smells and the feel of the air. It had the oppressive air of a foundry combined with the sharp scents of a spice trader's wagon. It was an odd pair, Charles thought. A cacophony of voices accentuated the bustle of the Oram Plaza just as it had the Ajack Plaza. A crowd of people gathered around a parade of metal beasts and men that cut across the square. Charles was quite interested in this novel cultural display -however, their planned route took them around the procession, much to Charles' dismay. They cut across an adjoining thoroughfare and slipped through the gathered crowd. They simply had to cross another road and keep ahead. Dalia had told him this before their arrival in the district, and he had committed it to memory. Halfway across their planned crossing, Dalia stopped in her tracks. He stopped as well. "What is it, Dalia?" he turned and inquired. Dalia simply grabbed his shoulder and pointed out their shared prey to him. Aman Lorei, the debtor. He was taking in the procession of artifice creatures and mean with pride and joy. She did not hide her glee from what Charles didn't dare to imagine. He was no sadist. He simply had to do what must be done. "Our cogworker has made himself known at this festival. So, what will you do, Charles?" Her Cheshire grin was full of a malice. Charles' hair shifted colors, changing from ash gray to dirty blonde in an instant. His eyes transformed from light gray to a blue as deep and full as the Vorsan Ocean. His features softened and his stature lessened. This lent him an impression of youth that he had begun to lose. Dalia's excitement was boundless. "A shapechanger! Marvelous! I had forgotten Halflings like you were even capable of shapechanging! I wonder what misfortune you'll wreak upon him." Charles did not reply but instead sauntered through the crowd like an arrogant youth. Being the son of a Daoine -an elf- and a human had its advantages, and his shapechanging abilities was one of them. He hid his left hand within his cloak. Now unrecognizable, he strolled over to the cogworker. Aman turned and greeted him with a smile. Charles returned it in kind. "Isn't the parade nice this year?" Aman asked. He threw an aside glance at Charles. Charles pretended not to notice. "Actually, it's my first time seeing it. I'm from Brunswick, and we don't have parades like this," Charles replied. Aman's shoulder's relaxed and he turned to face Charles. "Ah, so what brings you to Northpass, the Oram District no less?" Aman inquired with genuine curiosity. "I've heard it's very nice up in Brunswick this time of year, so I don't see why you'd leave for a city like Northpass." Charles removed his left hand from his cloak and displayed the glowing sigil to Aman. Terror spread onto Aman's face like wildfire. Aman tried in vain to run, but his feet didn't answer to his call. They answered to Charles'. Glances here and there centered on them, but once they saw the sigil, the onlookers knew to look away. "You are a very wanted, man, Aman Lorei. Do you know who I am?" Aman's voice was bound by the power of the sigil. He could only shake his head no. Good. He doesn't know, and he doesn't need to know. The more anonymous I stay, the better. Charles looked back and found Dalia watching onward with giddy anticipation. Aman's eyes followed his, but his head stayed firmly put with a pulse of power from the sigil. Let's get this over with. "Mr. Lorei, you are accused of defaulting on your loans. Normally, you are subject to a trial of law, but my superior has ordered you be dealt with immediately. You are a stain upon the Consortium's name and must be wiped clean." Aman struggled with a newly invigorated fury. It was a futile effort. The magic of the Rule of Binding was absolute, and no one could escape its grasp. Tears welled up in his eyes. Pleading. Bargaining. Grief. Charles could care less about his sorrow. He was a liability and a stepping stone. If Aman needed to be crushed under foot, then so be it. "Your hands will fail you until you pay back your debts to us. This shall be so," Charles commanded. The sigil throbbed with pangs of power, and the world made Charles' decree so. Aman's hands fell limply to his sides and he could feel them no longer. "You will no longer be able to perform your trade until you pay back your debts. We do not like to be kept waiting, Aman," Charles decreed. Charles strolled away and loosened his control of Aman. Aman tumbled to the stone with a thud. His lame hands were unable to catch his body, leaving him to hit the stone face-first. It was sure to leave a sizeable bruise, Charles was sure. Charles made his way back to Dalia. She was ecstatic. Crimson lightning crackled between his fingers. "What punishment did you mete out to our debtor?" She wondered with a sadistic curiosity. Charles saw fit to indulge her. "I crippled his hands until he decides to pay back his debts. Without them, he cannot work." "And this will drive him further into debt! Genius!" Dalia threw her arms around Charles who uncomfortably reciprocated. "Such a cunning maneuver, my dear Charles. Perhaps you're much more interesting than I thought," she whispered into his ear. Charles' spine shivered, and he knew Dalia had noticed it. "Let's return to the Quaestor and report this to him." "Let's." Category:Blog posts